More By This Poet
Vision in Which the Final Blackbird Disappears
A monstrosity in the alley.
A many-bodied movement grouped
for terror, their flights’ brief shadows
on the kitchen curtains, on the street’s
reliquaries of loose squares and hustle.
Some minds are groomed for defiance. The youngest
calls out his territory with muscular vowels
where street light spills...
A storm and so a gift.
Its swift approach
lifts gravel from the road.
A fence is flattened in
the course of the storm’s
worse attempt at language —
thunder’s umbrage. A tree
is torn apart,...